


hiraeth

by ZOMBIEDOG



Series: SELF-INDULGENT [16]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Other, also like my 2nd time legit writing mihawk pls be nice to me, also like my eustass fic this mans is probably hella ooc, also this is like a bit Morbid so uhh beware of that, bare with me here, but im out here doing my own thing and nobody can stop me, dragon mihawk, i adore this man with my everything pls show him more love he deserves it, idk im trying new things with my writing, listen i adored that movie and i just really enjoy the idea of dragons, this was inevitable with my semi return to the fandom, yes this is inspired by movie eragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22732093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZOMBIEDOG/pseuds/ZOMBIEDOG
Summary: And as he looked down at you, he knew he would follow you for the rest of eternity, be it into hell or heaven, he would never leave your side. He would follow you anywhere, as long as you would have him, and he knew he would make the most of this second chance. The second chance to love and be loved, one he wouldn't give up for anything.
Relationships: Dracule Mihawk/Reader, Dracule Mihawk/You
Series: SELF-INDULGENT [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1326377
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

The myth that a dragon would follow his rider into death was only half true, yes it had been recorded that many dragons followed their riders into the afterlife, usually due to heartbreak at losing their other-half, but for Mihawk, it was only a small sting yet something he could shove aside. This was a time of war, of death and brutality, there was no time to mourn the lost and forgotten, nor was there time for him to be truly attached to whatever rider the Academy gave him. It was his duty to grit and bear it, to allow these pests to ride him into the countless battles, to protect them with tooth and claw and scale, to risk his life for theirs. But there was no love, no loyalty, no respect, only a warped sense of duty. It was his burden to bear in this war, to have his heart rarely broken and to see countless riders fall, never truly caring about any of them, to only pay his respects and give them a passing thought before the next jumped into his saddle. And sometimes, Mihawk wished desperately, oh so desperately, that as his newest rider fell, he would perhaps fall with them.

And it seems that the gods had a sick sense of humor. There was finally a rider Mihawk had connected with, a young lad with fiery red hair and cheerful eyes that seemed to glint in the sun, his smile as bright as the stars. He knew this wasn't the true Riders' Bond many elders spoke of, something you felt in the deepest echoes of your heart, the yearning that only your true rider could inspire, but it was similar. This was a true bond, one of mutual respect and admiration, one the young man had worked hard to achieve. Never once had his previous riders attempted to bond with him outside of battle, never sneaking him extra bits of food or helping him keep his scales clean, checking in on him in the late nights, gazing out at the stars together as they pondered the answers to the universe. Mihawk had let himself truly become attached. And it was then in the battle after that, they both fell from grace. His rider the first, a sword plunged deep in his chest, a startled cry the last Mihawk heard before the familiar weight was ripped from his saddle. The dragon was second, his heart shattering as he plummeted to the earth, in a desperate attempt to catch his rider, to soften the harsh blow of the ground. And the last thing he could remember before the shadows overtook him was holding his rider close to his chest, wings wrapped around them both as he crashed to the ground with a mourning cry. And then there was nothing but darkness.

And when he awoke, all he could feel was pain. The pain of a breaking heart, of a broken wing, of being abandoned by those he had once trusted. And now, he was alone, with nothing but the corpse of his rider, the only one who'd ever been kind to him, who treated him as some _one_ and not some _thing_. Oh, how Mihawk cursed the gods, how he cursed himself for provoking them. And now, he feared he might truly die from this heartache. But as he lifted his rider onto his saddle, to ride so proudly for the last time, to try and wrap his mind around the fact his friend was truly gone, he began to wander. One wing was neatly tucked against him while the other helplessly dragged across the ground, screaming with a burning fury the second he tried to tuck it away like its counter-part. And he walked, marching endlessly until the pads of his feet began to bleed, the ground soiled by his blood, marking the path of a broken heart, of a young dragon who lost what he'd cared for most. And the path only stopped at the edge of a cliff, where there was a mound of rocks and a tree, marking the spot of the fallen rider, his dragon nowhere to be seen.

The myth of Mihawk and Shanks continued throughout the lands for centuries, the great riders grave discovered by a local village and thus taken care of, a yearly tribute in his honor and the honor of his great dragon, perhaps one of the greatest warriors in the fight for freedom. There were many who claimed Mihawk was still alive, hidden away with the secrets of the world, still waiting all these years for his rider to bond with him, to heal his broken heart. There just as many who opposed the idea, claiming the dragon had followed Shanks into death, his body lost to the bottom of the sea, his heart-broken roars adopted by the sea in his glorious honor.

But there was one who knew the truth. The one who lived on the outskirts of the town, home hidden away in the forest, face rarely seen and voice never heard. The one who had saved the dragon all those years ago. The one who had bonded with him, the one who helped mend his broken heart, his true rider.


	2. hiraeth

Mihawk could still remember when he first met you, his true rider, his other-half. He had been lost in his grief and pain, having lost the only human he'd cared about since his hatching at the academy. Even the one who had hatched him, a name and face forgotten to time, the only thing left the haunting feelings of cruelty, had never been one he'd pledged himself to. But his Shanks, his poor Shanks, had been so cruelly ripped away from him when they were both still young and learning about the world, when Mihawk thought he'd been invincible when he thought he could challenge the gods and win. And to outsiders, it only seemed like he'd been tired of being used by those who wouldn't second-glance at him, but he knew the truth. He had been angry and hurt, and in that anger, he had challenged the gods to make him fall alongside his rider, and so they had.

He could still feel his broken wing and bleeding feet, the grass parting around his claws as he stained the land in his sorrows, wandering aimlessly until he found a resting place worthy of his rider. His companion, his _friend_. And even with his broken wing, he had soared through the sky, crying his rage at the gods, challenging them to finally end him once and for all, after all, they'd taken the only one he'd cared for. They had done the impossible in breaking his heart. And yet again, in his foolishness, he'd given the gods a challenge they gladly answered. The skies began to pour, pelting him with rain that felt like tears on his scales, tears he couldn't shed, and as he silently mourned, he felt his wing give as he yet again plummeted towards the ground, but this time, he welcomed it.

He remembered that when he'd opened his eyes, he was too tired to even strike out at you, a stranger and possible enemy, only managing a warped rumble that was so weak it was nearly impossible to hear. You merely shushed him, laying a kind hand on his snout for him to sniff, his sharp gaze never leaving you, even as his lips lifted in a silent snarl and his claws tapped weakly against the ground beneath him. But as you quietly hushed him and whispered such kind things, something inside him told him it was alright, he could trust you, he was safe. And not once had his instinct led him astray, so he fell silent and just watched as you wrapped his foreclaws, and mended his wing. And even at the harsh snap of the bone being reset, the searing fire that shot through him, never once did he snap out, not when you continued to whisper such kind and soft things to him. Not when you only wanted to help him. Just like Shanks.

Companionship had been a new concept to him, especially outside of its usual context. Shanks had been kind to him out of a sense of duty, having cared for the one that carried and protected him in battle, yet you asked for nothing other than his continued presence. Every morning you would bring him something you'd either purchased from the town butcher or something you'd caught yourself and every morning you would change his bandages and check his wounds. Every evening you would sit with him, and you would talk. You'd tell him about your day or the events in town, from a group of children playing with a stray dog or the latest gossip you'd overheard at the bakery, you constantly told him about everything. And in the beginning, Mihawk couldn't care less, only wanting you to shut up and leave him to brood in peace, wanting nothing more than to enjoy the silence as he usually did when you weren't around. But soon, that silence was something he dreaded when you weren't around. As much as he hated to admit it, you had grown on him, and he had in turn grown to love the sound of your voice.

He could even still remember the first night you'd spent by his side, curled up between his forelegs and pressed so gently to his chest, claws surrounding you protectively as you absently stroked the scales that protected his heart, humming a soft lullaby to him that you'd once mentioned was one you remembered from simpler times before you left the town and its people. And slowly, he began to know more about you, your history and who you were as a being. He began to regard you as a friend, someone to keep close and protect, to shield away from the world and all of its horrors. And as he looked down at you that night, the both of you drenched in the moons soft light, he felt his heart swell and that voice he'd heard when you first met, he crooned as it spoke, bending his neck to press his snout against you, exhaling gently and bathing you in warmth.

' _This is_ the one _, this is your_ True Rider _, the one who will heal you_ '

-

Mihawk was snapped from his thoughts when he felt a familiar touch on his shoulder, opening his eyes and turning his head to stare down at you, huffing tiredly and giving a draconic smile, the best he could muster, as he then lowered his head to nuzzle it against you. A soft rumble echoed through his chest as you raised your hands to cradle his head, one drifting to gently scratch the base of his horns as the other stayed on his cheek, thumb rubbing the small clusters of scales that gathered there. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the presence of each other, hearts beating in synch as you simply existed. And then came a demanding chirp, breaking the silence and bringing his attention to the small hatchling that had followed you in your journey to follow him. While its moss-green scales were still dull due to its young age, its gaze was still sharp and judging. Mihawk gave a warning grumble as the hatchling marched towards you, bumping its head against your leg. And Mihawk was sure you'd fall over if not for his head supporting you. The warning grumble became louder until the hatchling finally backed away, and once at a distance it deemed safe, began to grumpily chirp back at him.

The elder dragon was about to teach the hatchling a lesson in manners when another touch from you brought his thoughts back to you. Your bemused smile and a quirked eyebrow enough to warm his heart as he gave a sigh, smoke pooling from his nostrils as he averted his gaze, a raised claw reaching forward to pull you into his chest, thus creating a barrier between you, his precious rider, and that bothersome hatchling. Tilting your head back with a laugh, you scratched under his chin before turning your attention back to the hatchling, cooing at it in a way that was soothing, easing its worries of the elder you were bonded with. And despite himself, Mihawk found it amusing how the little thing seemed to pout before running forward and launching itself into your arms, small chirps of victory echoed by your laughter. Mihawk nearly rolled his eyes at the scene.

' _Be kind, my love, you were a hatchling once_ , too,' he heard his rider tease, lifting his gaze to catch your own, huffing with a shake of his head. Rising to his feet, and thus his full height, he stretched his wings out wide before coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you, reaching down to gently bump snouts with the hatchling, rumbling a warning before yet again turning his attention to the sky stretched far above the three of you. ' _Yes, well,_ I _was never_ that _clingy or grouchy_ ,' he mused in reply, rumbling as he usually did when you touched him, feeling the weight of you leaning against him as you sighed, and he didn't need to look to see that your eyes were closed in contentment. He'd been by your side long enough to know just about everything about you, even to the point of predicting your move before you could even make it.

The warm silence continued until you finally moved away, giving him one last pat before disappearing into the cave the three of you called home, only returning with the saddle you had crafted together, Mihawk collecting the supplies and you sewing it all together. And in a moment he'd be embarrassed of if in front of anyone else but you, he gave a chirp so happy it could rival a hatchlings. As you placed the saddle on his back and laced it tight, Mihawk felt his body shift and dance in anticipation, as it had been a while since the two of you had flown together, in fact, you hadn't broken out the saddle since finding the hatchling. It still needed a name, but that thought was for a later him, one that wasn't so focused on soaring through the sky with you. And as you swung up into the saddle, he turned his head to stare down at you, a question in his eyes that need not be spoken. ' _To say goodbye_ ,' was the only thing you needed to say, as he understood perfectly well, and with a mighty beat of his wings, the two of you took to the skies.

-

And as Mihawk stood by you, shoulder-to-shoulder, he couldn't help but roar at the sorrow in his heart, echoed by your own as you kneeled in front of a grave so familiar it haunted your dreams. The three of you were leaving the territory soon, planning to journey to new lands and perhaps find more dragons, as neither of you were fit to raise a hatchling, but it didn't feel right until you paid respects to the one that had brought Mihawk into your life. You let the tears fall freely as Mihawk continued to roar behind you, giving a cry of your own as you both roared in perfect unison, the sound echoing across the cliff and rivaling the sea's own. To say goodbye for the first time was difficult, but to say goodbye for the last was even harder. But Mihawk knew that Shanks would be proud of him for moving on, for continuing to grow without him, for finding his True Rider.

And as he looked down at you, he knew he would follow you for the rest of eternity, be it into hell or heaven, he would never leave your side. He would follow you anywhere, as long as you would have him, and he knew he would make the most of this second chance. The second chance to love and be loved, one he wouldn't give up for anything. And as the two of you turned away, to descend down the hill and say goodbye to the town, he swore he could see a familiar red out of the corner of his eye, but as he turned his head to look, he only saw a sakura tree, in full bloom. A final goodbye, indeed.

' _Rest well,_ old friend,' he called, ' _I will live and love for the both of us_ ,'

And he flew away over the sea's for a final time, with a familiar weight in his saddle, and a heart beating in sync with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just trying new things lmao, not really my typical writing style but im Experimenting


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